You're Just Too Much Fun
by Seaneta
Summary: Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham after an old threat is back. Held at gunpoint with his party hostage, the billionaire looks into those crazed eyes once again and does the unthinkable to save himself. Post TDKR. Joker/Bruce (Batman). Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**You're Just Too Much Fun**

**Summary:** Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham after an old threat is back. Held at gunpoint with his party hostage, the billionaire looks into those crazed eyes he thought he would never see again. Post TDKR. Joker/Bruce(Batman). Slash.

**Disclaimer/Warning:** Property of Warner Bros, Legendary Films, and DC Comics. This chaptered story will contain slash and mature content.

* * *

Bruce was utterly unprepared for this.

Eight years ago, being prepared could be found in the definition under his name. A wireless and voice-activated remote to his tumblr was always in his right ear, along with a secure communication device linked with Alfred and the Major Crimes Unit. He always wore a Kevlar top under his everyday suits, and for added security the billionaire normally rotated smoke pellets, lock picks, EMP grenades on his person.

And after taking a pathetic glance at his wrist, Bruce was pissed to realize he wasn't even wearing the specialized watch Lucius made for him.

It has been eight years, after all. Habits die eventually, even the old ones. Selina liked mentioning that to him, especially those mornings in their Italian suite as dawn was breaking. She would cup his face as they laid together in bed, both of them awake and well rested. Bruce had the tendency to make a remark about his new sleeping patterns after some nights, and the dark haired woman would smile and agree. But the honeymoon didn't last long. Within three months of pretending to be dead, Bruce was needed back in his city. Or, rather, the Batman. Blake or 'Robin' tried filling in the shoes of the caped crusader after finding the bat cave. The Robin persona held up for a while, but when criminals discovered he was no _bat_, that fear was lost. And Robin was struggling to keep up, even with the help of Gordon. Especially when an old, dormant evil showed his painted face once again.

And now he was looking directly into it, but as somebody he wasn't prepared to be. As Bruce Wayne.

The purple suited man recently escaped Arkham, all thanks to the security measures being within the normal realms of extreme. When the Joker was best described as "active" in the past, security was the tightest it had ever been. But when the Batman was pronounced dead, the man fell into a catatonic state in Arkham, falling into a silence that made even the other inmates uneasy. He rarely moved, rarely ate. There were moments when guards couldn't tell if he was breathing. The clown was in this condition for weeks until he heard of another vigilante coming out during the night.

The clown cocked his gun at the billionaire, almost not recognizing the infamous Bruce Wayne was under all that tanned skin. He grinned as he took a few steps closer to him, Gotham's prince hitting the back of the balcony ledge. The crowd of terrified party goers were trapped in the banquet room as men wearing clown masks pointed machine guns at their chests. The criminal made quite a show entering the celebration earlier, making it clear he was drawing out this _Robin_ to "pluck his feathers". And what better way to do that than to kill Gotham's returning Prince?

Bruce couldn't believe it. There the monster stood, looking like he hasn't aged since they first met. The rugged make-up, the dirty purple suit. Even traces of green were in his hair. He noticed the loaded gun, too.

"L-Look, please, killing me won't-"

"Nope, nope, nope Brucey, I don't like beggars." The clown interrupted, and flicked his tongue across his bottom lip. "Try, uh, something _else_".

Bruce stood against the balcony wall, trying to think of ways to buy himself some time before the police could arrive, and keeping his foe from shooting. He could tell, even without personally fighting him in years, this clown was on edge.

_This is similar to when we did first meet,_ Bruce suddenly thought. Only that time he was saving Rachel from this monster, not himself. It's even the same goddamn balcony.

"You don't want to kill me," Bruce reasoned, his arms were in a precautionary stance.

The man opposite of him went into a shrieking fit of laughter as he continued to point the gun. "Oh, ho, ho, and what kind case do you make for that?" He laughed and continued to close the proximity between them, "_Please enlighten me_."

Bruce was so outta ideas he considered just jumping off the damn ledge, but he kept his composure. "You don't want to kill me."

The other man comically cleared his ear as if he didn't hear the billionaire correctly. "Yeaaah, actually, I want to kill a _lot_ of people, Brucey. And you aren't making such a hot argument for yourself." He pressed the cool steel against the man's forehead. "So, I will only ask one. More. Time. Why," he hissed, "don't I want to?"

The man realized this brown eyed airhead wasn't sweating at this close of a distance, let alone shaking from nerves. What was this doofus so confident about? The new crusader, this fucking _bird man_ was nothing compared to his bat. Did people in this city actually think he is capable of being even half the driving force Batman was? If that was even was the case, and if Bruce Wayne was one of those confident idiots, well the clown would just love to _prove them wrong_.

"You said once you didn't want to kill me."

That pulled the madman out of his thoughts. He eyed the billionaire with a grimace, never remembering a moment in time he made such a stupid promise. To anybody. Especially to some arrogant, boring, rich brat. He usually did just the opposite with those types. He growled and pinned the brunet, forcing him halfway over the ledge. He twisted one of his arms. "And **why** would I ever do _that_?"

"Because," the man faltered. Bruce cleared his voice as best he could before adopting a much more deeper, grittier tone. "I'm just too much fun."

* * *

A/N: This drabble has turned into what I'd like to become a chaptered story. Talk about late to game regarding this couple, by the way, haha! The timeline may be confusing, but I'll be sorting out details as I go along and hopefully develop this more!

As a point of reference, the Joker went into a catatonic state when Batman retired in the comics. I venture to guess Nolanverse's Joker would do the same thing.

_As always, reviews are cherished and encouraged!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

_"Because," the man faltered. Bruce cleared his voice as best he could before adopting a much more deeper, grittier tone. "I'm just too much fun." _

The Joker flinched, not knowing whether his mind was playing tricks or if he heard the billionaire right, but the clown let go of Bruce all the same. Although speechless, he wanted to be skeptical. So many people mimic or try to imitate Batman's growl, so how could this bozo get the voice down _just right_? And it wasn't just that, _oh no, no, no. _He only made _that_ particular promise to his caped crusader some years ago. But this wasn't his crusader, this was some arrogant asshole. Some asshole who thought he could save himself by pretending to be the Bat.

The madman bit his lower lip as he gave the other male a questionable look. But just as he was about to make a remark, his once passive hostage took advantage of his confusion and ripped the gun out of his gloved hand and head-butted him away. The clown stumbled back, clutching his head with stifled giggles, which soon morphed into high-pitched, full-blown laughter. Bruce was able to back away from the ledge now, but cautiously watched the criminal before him.

His head was pounding with an ache he hadn't felt in ages. It was a little different without the cowl and pointy ears, but that ring vibrating through his skull was unmistakable. Looking back at Bruce, he saw a completely different man under that pressed suit. That dumb look was replaced with a stern grimace. His stance was that of a trained fighter. The criminal recognized a man that wasn't there before. A man he had missed so terribly.

"Oh, oh…_Batman_," he almost forgot how that name tasted on his tongue. Shivers ran up and down his body, immediately taking him back to that night with the ferries.

_ And I won't kill you. Because you're just too much fun. _

He knew why the Batman was only one worthy of such a promise, such a privilege from his knives and gasoline. How hilarious that his intentions were to kill a seemingly arrogant prick only seconds ago. "I've missed you _so much_," he looked up at him through his matted green locks, "haven't you, uh, missed _me_? Hm?"

But Bruce didn't respond when he saw the shine of a knife. With his long years of training, his body instinctively lunged forward. Bruce tried to hit him hard, knock him unconscious, anything without looking too skilled as some of the party goers fearfully watched.

"I'll take _that_ as a yes," the clown answered himself after he crashed on the hard floor. He was everything he remembered him to be, only finally unmasked. Even without the threatening suit or billowing cape, Bruce towered over him in a way only his Batman could. Fists clenched with a deadly promise as his mouth was set in the infamous scowl. The criminal put his thumb up and angled it so the other male's face was halfway covered. It seemed so obvious now that Bruce Wayne was the Dark Knight. Who else could afford such neat toys and have the physical capability for the Bats' nightly feats? He sure was one hell of an actor though, parading Bruce Wayne around for years like conceited son. Now as he laid there, taking a full look at the man who stood before him, he knew what Bruce Wayne really was. And what that meant for him.

Bruce leaned over and yanked the other man up by his jacket. "You're going back to Arkham, Joker."

The clown giggled and grinned, absolutely delighted to hear that deep voice again. "Wanna cart me off to Gordon in your _sports car_? Just _how_, pray tell, do you plan to do that as…._this_?" The Joker gestured to the man's day clothes.

But looking beyond the madman's shoulder, something through the windows caught Bruce's attention. Eyeing the clown once more, Bruce allowed himself a small smirk of satisfaction. "I don't have to do anything."

Confused, the Joker craned his neck to spot red dots over his henchman's bodies as they circled around the crowd of civilians. Soon enough, the source of those red dots came bursting through at every direction inside the room, taking down each lackey before they could fire quick enough. As more and more men fell, the Joker only grew more angry and tried to force his way out of Bruce's grip. Using a knife hidden in his sleeve, he placed it just below the other man's jaw line. Before Bruce could properly react, two men barged through the doors. The billionaire decided to play hostage once again.

The two had SPECIAL FORCES written on their vests with their guns held high. "Get on the ground!" "On your knees!" They shouted through their helmets. But the Joker only heard faint echoes compared to what was running through his head. He could not get caught _now_, not when things were finally getting so _good_. His stay in Arkham was long enough, he _needed _more time with the Bat. And as the Joker eyed the balcony ledge behind them both, he realized he would do anything to have it.

Bruce noticed the Joker's sudden change in demeanor when he stopped pressing the knife so close against his skin, but wasn't ready for his abrupt jump towards the other end of the platform. The men continued to bark orders and Bruce looked at them as if they were brainless; telling the Joker to just give up wasn't going to work.

Without any warning, the Joker grinned as he forced himself on and then over the ledge of the balcony, taking his hostage with him. One of the men knew it was futile to shoot, in case he would hit the captive, and instead threw his helmet off and ran towards the edge.

"Bruce!" He could do nothing more than to watch the two figures slide down panels before disappearing.

* * *

He couldn't see anything at first. Just darkness. Then the pain piercing through his abdomen and legs made him realize where he was and what was happening. They were falling. Both himself and the Joker were sliding down slanted paneling along the tall building, the Joker possessing a grip so strong around his arm he thought it was numb. Bruce tried to count how many of these slanted platforms there were before they would be free falling. The banquet was on the tenth? Or maybe the twelfth story? The rushing air against his face made everything hard to see and observe. Another short fall was coming, so Bruce braced himself for another platform to hit. From what he could make out, the clown seemed positively delighted at all this. As if he had no idea a gruesome death was only seconds away, the Joker maintained an obnoxious grin that matched his eyes. He continued to hold onto the billionaire's arm. Bruce could finally spot the last sliding fixture and realized they would be hitting the ground from only a three story drop. Acting fast, he disdainfully grabbed a hold of the Joker as well, trying not to compare this to eight years ago; when he was saving Rachel from falling instead.

Heart pounding, Bruce attempted to equal their weight before they plummeted on a lot of bushes near the sidewalk. They landed hard and fast. It was only luck that Bruce didn't feel the impact. The Joker, however, quickly came to. Sounds were distant and muffled from the air piercing his ears seconds ago. With a few grunts he lifted himself out of the thorny bushes and looked around. There were no police in sight.

"Get _off_ of me," Bruce snarled, trying to lift his head up. He knew something was wrong with him; his head felt like it burst and his entire body felt exceptionally sluggish. Noises were coming and going. At least he knew he survived the fall, but for how much longer?

The Joker giggled as he leaned off of him. He loved the Batman out of his suit. It was adorable how tough he still tried to be as he attempted to hide the soreness he felt. With his normally polished hair hanging in front of his eyes and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths, Bruce painted a beautiful image the Joker didn't want to forget. It gave him more shivers along his spine. However, upon inspecting the Bat closer, he could see the other male's head was bleeding slightly, and it didn't take long for Bruce's eyes to roll back behind his skull. A second later, his body went limp as well.

"Well, that's not good." The Joker commented, leaning down to check out his head more carefully. It seemed to only be a small cut, but the scalp _is_ littered with blood vessels. The Joker felt his pulse next. It was there, but a little slow. Knowing he was marked with only fresh bruises and a growing headache, the clown lifted Bruce and tossed his arm over his shoulders. As much as he wanted to play around with the Wayne boy now, this was neither the time or place.

"We have some talkin' to do, Bats. Or should I call you Brucey?" He cackled as they turned down into an alleyway. "Let's get you better so I'm not talkin' to myself for _too_ long."

* * *

The brunet woke up in a cold sweat, his breathing ragged and heavy. He felt nauseous for a few minutes before the sensation turned into a lethargic and exhausted one. Bruce just woke up, but it felt like he just finished running a few marathons. He attempted to get up but by doing so he noticed he wasn't in his mansion, or even in a bed. Adjusting to the dim lighting, Bruce saw he was strapped to a heavy metal chair; his legs tied to each post and his arms secured behind the back. Even his waist was tied by rope with no wiggle room. He wondered why somebody would tie him so excessively, but then he remembered his party was held captive, and the Joker and himself falling to their deaths. Bruce knew why he was so heavily secured; The Joker knew he was Batman.

Bruce blew air out of his nose in anger, trying to control his aggravation with the situation. Upon his return to Gotham he already told his worse enemy his identity, was tied up, and had a killer headache.

Looking around, he saw that he was in some small, cheap apartment. He heard cars driving below and faint voices outside. The curtains were drawn, but he could tell he was still in the city. Bruce made some over observations as well, only these were slightly more alarming. In addition to the realization he was lacking all clothing above his waistline, it also appeared that there was some kind of medical gauze wrapped around his head. He could feel something wet and sticky under it too. _Do I have a concussion? How long was I asleep for? How much blood did I lose already? _A small crack of light was slipping out from under a wooden door near by, and when Bruce heard it squeak open, his thoughts came to a halt.

But out came somebody he didn't quite expect. It was the Joker…but it wasn't. The green dye from his hair was nearly gone, and his strands weren't even that greasy. He had no paint on his face, which made the scars along his mouth much more visible. Although his style in clothing didn't change, he lacked the heavy coat and vest, and the patterns were different. Bruce couldn't help but stare.

"Lookie here, it seems we can both pretend to be _normal_," the Joker jested, enjoying any attention he received from Bruce.

It was such an odd spectacle Bruce thought his concussion was much worse than he originally thought. Steam from a fresh shower trickled out of the doorway, and the Joker waved it away and continued to eye Bruce back. The two men known for striking fear into the hearts of other's looked at each other, both unmasked and in the same room together. Nobody was going to interrupt them now, and each had different feelings towards the fact.

"You don't want to kill me, and yet you threw me off a building." Bruce broke the silence, maintaining his Batman persona through his voice and posture. Even tied up and half-naked to a chair he was calm and acted like he had the upper hand. It was odd, however, to show his true self without wearing the cape and cowl. He tried to shrug off the feeling.

The Joker laughed, "In case you haven't noticed, _Bruce_, you're still a_live_". He flicked his hand against the other male's bandage. "And I'm glad you, uh, always _exceed_ my expectations."

Bruce only stared back at him, not wanting to play his games. The Joker realized this and tried to sigh in frustration, but he really was too happy to pretend. "You really are _a lotta fun_," he traced a long scar that ran across Bruce's chest. The Joker could see his skin shuddering from the cold touch. He drew the hand back and flipped out a knife from his pocket. Seating himself in the other male's lap, the clown giggled when Bruce let out a short grunt in protest. "I couldn't let _them _steal this away from me. So I acted," he traced the same scar on Bruce with the tip of his knife. "Jumping off a building isn't normally a problem for the _Batman_," a chuckle, "because with _Batman_, isn't anything possible?"

This madman is rambling, Bruce thought. He needs to get out of here and get to a hospital. The nauseous feeling came back ten-fold, and he was having a hard time ignoring his increasingly bad vision. As the Joker continued to examine his old battle wounds, Bruce felt like this was even more so a dream. Without his make-up, the Joker almost seemed normal, and noticing those freckles running along his nose didn't help differentiate that.

"What I _didn't_ know," the Joker grimaced, "was that it was possible for the Batman to fake his death and give up his, uh,…man_tle_ to some _boy blunder_." Bruce didn't flinch when the knife nicked his neck, or when small droplets of blood slowly began to seep out. The Joker intently watched the red beads fall and his gaze occasionally flickered up to his Bat's face. He could see that Bruce was trying his best to conceal the pain. He savored such a delightful expression and giggled. He loved all of the Bat's expressions, how little there were. "Bu_t_, I suppose that's what I _love _about you, darling." His gaze shot up in thought, "…you keep me on my toes."

Immediately the billionaire attempted to head-butt the clown again, but he was ready this time around. Quickly dodging the lunge, the Joker crackled and grabbed a fist-full of Bruce's hair and shoved him back. "Ho, ho! And you do it even with a head wound!" The criminal laughed even more when Bruce scowled back. "Now now, Batsy-Brucey, you can't be doing these kinds of things with your head like this," he waved his finger in disapproval.

"Then untie my hands," Bruce glared.

The Joker laughed again, this time directly in the other male's face. Using his free hand, the clown cupped Bruce's jaw line, the knife between his fingers. "Oh Bruce," he looked into those dark brown eyes, those same ones he looked into the first night they began their eternal dance. "I missed you so _very_ much."

They kissed.

Or rather, the Joker forced Bruce's lips to meet his own. Taking advantage of the surprised vigilante, the criminal became greedy and kissed every inch of his mouth before shoving his tongue inside. He tasted like mint, and the Joker pushed Bruce's head closer for better access. It was everything he had ever wanted, ever dreamed of having. The big bad Bat at his disposal to do with what he pleased. What a homecoming!

Bruce was baffled and stiff. He broke free from his shock and tried to pull his head away, but the Joker's grip was strong. Bruce wanted to avoid the searing pain he felt through his scalp, especially as the man twisted his fingers through his hair. He couldn't tell if he began to see black spots because of the Joker, his injury, or both. Feeling those scarred and rough lips upon his own, Bruce continued to struggle as gently as he could to twist away. But he soon found himself only giving out muffled roars when the Joker's tongue invaded. If he was feeling nauseous before, now he really felt sick. Eventually, the clown's tongue left Bruce's mouth and the billionaire panted for air. The other male slowly made his way to his chin, then jaw line, and then finally the drops of blood on his neck. Bruce could feel the criminal getting hard as he pressed his body against his exposed upper half.

"You're good," the Joker grinned and looked up at Bruce, "but I sensed a _slight_ _re_sistance?"

The brunet spat on the floor beside them. Even with his injuries, the only thing he seemed able focus on was the Joker's taste on his tongue.

"You do realize you're never leaving me again," the clown replied ominously, staring at Bruce's growing pupils. "And I have no intention of ever leaving you." The clown uncharacteristically caressed the billionaire's hair in a tender manner.

Bruce only stared back at him, seeing the black spots through his vision get worse. He tried to focus on the Joker touching the one scar on his chest he played with earlier; the scar the Joker gave him on the Prewitt building overlooking the ferries. He knew he was going to loose consciousness again, and that was not a good thing given these nightmarish circumstances.

The other male noticed Bruce's condition as well, but he didn't let it spoil his mood. The Joker understood he would just have to play doctor again. He was getting what he wanted anyway. The bat was back in Gotham, and was _his_.

"Is somebody getting sleepy?" The madman taunted. The Joker enjoyed watching as Bruce tried to fight it, tried to avoid slipping off the edge of consciousness. As his head began to bob, the Joker cupped his chin to steady him and snapped his fingers with his other hand. "Hey, hey, come on now" he cooed.

The billionaire's head was pounding, and he worried what the Joker might do with his unconscious body. His eyes began to flutter shut against his will.

"You are _mine_, and I am _yours_," the Joker sang in a random tune, attempting a lullaby. Bruce's vision faded out, and the Joker's words were the last thing he heard before falling into darkness. "…_because you're just too...much…fun._"

* * *

I apologize for any spelling/grammar errors, reviews are always appreciated, and thanks to all who reviewed already! I am attempting longer chapters, but I can never argue with good ending points. Enjoy:)


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